


Courting

by disdainfreely



Series: Requested Works [11]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cyclonus is Tired, Decepticon Courting Rituals, Explicit Sexual Content, First Aid is Awkward, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23796109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disdainfreely/pseuds/disdainfreely
Summary: So maybe First Aid, who is painfully single, doesn’t want to be painfully single, and maybe he wants to be Not Single with Ambulon.Maybe Ambulon feels the same way.Maybe Decepticon courting rituals are obscure and weird.Maybe First Aid isn't actually single anymore.
Relationships: Ambulon/First Aid (Transformers)
Series: Requested Works [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1270631
Comments: 5
Kudos: 89





	Courting

First Aid is single. Very, very single. It never used to bother him. Not really, anyway. He had his work on Delphi and there was always something to be tended to. But joining the crew of the Lost Light, living through Primus-knows-what chaos, and seeing what feels like half the other bots on the ship getting together or reaffirming their relationships?

Well. It starts to wear on a mech.

So First Aid is very single, and a little bit broody about it, and doesn’t really want to be asked why he’s brooding. So he’s brooding in the medbay by himself with a drink out of his own personal stash.

At least he gets some quiet.

“You know your shift ended over an hour ago. You could go drink anywhere else.”

Well. Mostly some quiet. Ambulon is giving him a mild glare from his own desk across the medbay, where he’s running maintenance on the Medidrone. The little thing is purring happily at having the dust cleaned out of all its joints.

“Just catching up on some paperwork,” First Aid offers in lame excuse.

“While drinking?”

“It’s not complicated paperwork.”

So maybe First Aid, who is painfully single, doesn’t want to be painfully single, and maybe he wants to be Not Single with Ambulon.

You know, hypothetically. 

“You still shouldn’t be drinking it while you do it.”

“I don’t know. Figured it’d spice things up a little.” First Aid sets his drink down. 

“That bored?” Ambulon gently nudges the Medidrone to turn over so he can start on its other side. “You’re not even going to go drink in Swerve’s? You could go sit with Brainstorm and theorize about which Wrecker is the hottest.”

“Okay, we’re running out of arguments because he’s clearly biased towards Perceptor and won’t consider it objectively. The answer is obviously Springer.” First Aid insists.

“Well obviously.” Ambulon agrees. “There’s clearly no other answer.”

First Aid is just starting to puff up with pride when he sees Ambulon’s grin. “Hey. You’re making fun of me!”

“Yeah, ‘Aid. I’m making fun of you. I definitely am. Also, you left your collection of Wreckers Declassified on my desk again. Your reader copies, anyway.” Ambulon gestures to the ominously leaning stack of datapads.

“Oh!” First Aid immediately sets his drink down to run over and fetch the datapads. “I was wondering where I left these--I had to reference an article so I thought I’d just flip through them--sorry!”

“It’s fine. The Medidrone nearly took them out though.” Ambulon tickles the underside of the drone’s little body. 

First Aid hastily carries the stack over to his own desk. “Thanks for saving them.”

“No problem.” Ambulon gently pushes away the Medidrone, which is enjoying the maintenance too much to want to leave even when Ambulon is done. “Alright. If you’re not going to go drink at Swerve’s with Brainstorm, you have to give me some of whatever you’re drinking.” He comes over to lean his hip against First Aid’s desk. “Deal?”

It takes First Aid longer than it should to make words. “Deal. Yeah. Uh. Let me just grab another cube. I’ve been trying to mess with some different energon flavors. Maybe Swerve will like one of them.” Ambulon is actually smiling at him. Like really smiling. 

It’s not that Ambulon never smiles. He definitely does smile. Normally, though, it’s not like a smile-smile. It’s a little quirk of his mouth or a sardonic smirk.

It’s really great, though, when he does smile-smile. 

First Aid successfully pulls out a second cube and hands it to Ambulon, who gives him another one of those smile-smiles that makes First Aid’s spark do flips. 

“Thanks, ‘Aid. Really.” 

He sounds so serious, suddenly. Why does he sound so serious? But he’s still smiling as he takes a sip, and that’ll just have to be good enough for First Aid’s uselessly Very Single spark. 

“Yeah, anytime.” First Aid has to take another sip of his drink to hide his face as Ambulon shifts, hip still pressed against First Aid’s desk and yellow optics still locked on First Aid’s face. First Aid has to try very hard to keep focused on Ambulon’s face and not on his hips or his thighs or the way his plating fluffs out and resettles as his vents work. Of course, the problem with thinking about Ambulon’s face is that it’s very easy to then think about his mouth, which is a whole separate danger.

Oh, he’s got it bad.

Primus, he’s in trouble.

“You know, I think I’m just about finished with this paperwork and I’m pretty beat. I think I’m going to head back to my hab.” First Aid drains his drink and stands.

Ambulon’s smile fades. Oh no. No, First Aid didn’t mean to make it leave! “Oh. Yeah. Makes sense. Your shift is over. Thanks for the drink.”

“Yeah. Anytime,” First Aid says quickly. Something flickers across Ambulon’s face. Confusion, maybe?

“I’ll see you later, ‘Aid.” Ambulon heads back to his own desk, leaving his unfinished drink behind.

First Aid picks the cube up. Why would Ambulon just leave it behind? It’s good stuff.

“Hey. You might need this,” First Aid attempts to joke as he offers the cube back to Ambulon, “if you want to survive that paperwork.”

Ambulon looks up at him and First Aid can maybe see...surprise? Confusion? Relief? What’s going on here?

“Thanks, ‘Aid. You’re right. I probably will need this.” He smiles, very slightly, and First Aid’s spark flips.

He flees the medbay. What just happened? Hopefully next time he runs into Ambulon it’ll be normal again. 

* * *

First Aid is really not sure what’s happening, but whatever passed between them seems to have made things weird. Every time they’re both in the medbay, there’s something awkward in the air. At the same time, they seem to have made something like a routine. Ambulon comes over to his desk, First Aid offers Ambulon a drink, Ambulon accepts, then Ambulon leans his hip against First Aid’s desk in a way that makes First Aid’s fans want to click on.

After a couple weeks of this routine, which only seems to be increasing in awkwardness, First Aid finds himself giving Cyclonus a physical while Ambulon files paperwork at his desk. Cyclonus looks between them, and First Aid tries hard not let his own awkwardness leak into his field. Is it that obvious that something is going on? He’d thought they were being subtle.

Ambulon wanders into the back office, clearly consulting something on a datapad, and Cyclonus turns his full attention back to First Aid.

“When did you start courting him?”

First Aid chokes. “When did I--what?”

“Start courting him. It’s obvious in his field, but not in yours.” Cyclonus blinks at First Aid with inscrutable red optics.

“I’m not--we’re not--” First Aid stammers for an explanation. He doesn’t have one, of course, because he’s desperately attracted to Ambulon, but Ambulon has been acting so weird since First Aid offered him that first drink, and he doesn’t know what to do about it. 

“So you don’t know.” Cyclonus seems a little amused, but First Aid really, really can’t do this. Ambulon could come back at any moment, but if someone knows why Ambulon might be acting so weird he has to know.

“So how do you know that Ambulon thinks we’re courting? And why would he think that?” First Aid asks hurriedly. He shoots a nervous look toward the back office, but Ambulon seems to be busy back there. Hopefully they have a moment.

“Because his field says that you’re courting. I suppose he never explained Decepticon tradition to you,” Cyclonus says. He almost sounds sympathetic.

“No, he doesn’t like talking about his time as a Decepticon. Tell me why he’d think that. Like what could I have accidentally done to give him that idea?” First Aid asks urgently. Cyclonus considers his answer with an air that’s far too leisurely for First Aid’s jangled nerves. 

“Well, normally Decepticon courting is initiated with a sharing of resources. Traditionally, it’s energon. Perhaps you’ve done something in that vein?”

“Well, I...offered him a drink, but that’s pretty normal! I’ve done that before!

Cyclonus seems unconvinced. “Is it now?”

“Well, we’ve worked together a long time. It’s not like I’ve never offered him a drink before. We’ve gotten fuel together lots of times,” First Aid says. Cyclonus shrugs.

“Perhaps I was incorrect, then. Is my physical concluded?”

“Yes, sorry. Clean bill of health. Everything looks great.” First Aid steps back so Cyclonus can stand up from the berth.

“Thank you,” Cyclonus nods politely and heads for the door. He’s almost there before something occurs to First Aid and he hurries after him.

“Wait. Is there something in Decepticon stuff about...I don’t know. Asking for a drink?”

Cyclonus considers First Aid for a moment and First Aid gets the sense that Cyclonus regrets having brought anything up. 

“That’s a rather forward way to begin a courtship, but it’s not unheard of. Is that what happened?”

“...Maybe?”  
.  
Cyclonus shakes his head. “Well. Good luck to you, then.” He leaves and First Aid is left with a jumble of frazzled nerves and confused thoughts. 

A Decepticon courting thing around energon. Cyclonus can tell Ambulon thinks they’re courting, but First Aid hasn’t heard a peep about it. He drifts back to his desk.

That first night Ambulon demanded a drink and First Aid gave him some of the energon he was messing with. Is that...enough? Did Ambulon take that as a courting thing? Why wouldn’t he just say it? Unless he thought First Aid understood? Was that why he acted so confused when First Aid decided to leave?

This would all be much easier if he could just ask Ambulon.Which he can, technically, there’s nothing stopping him. Ambulon is right in the back office; there’s no one else in the medbay. He can ask. He can get up right now if he wants to.

But what if he’s wrong? What if Cyclonus was wrong? What if First Aid asks Ambulon about it and Ambulon doesn’t feel anything and First Aid is still painfully single, but now with a friend who’s avoiding him? What then?

“You look a little out of it. You alright?” Ambulon is back and peering down at him curiously, datapad still in hand. “’Aid?”

First Aid stares up at him. He opens his mouth to ask a question, but his vocalizer just produces a burst of static. Ambulon frowns.

“Really, are you alright?” 

“Are we courting?” First Aid squeaks. Ambulon looks taken aback.

“What?”

“Are we courting? Did you ask me to court you when you asked for a drink?” First Aid’s voice strengthens a little. “Is that why you’ve been acting weird?”

“Is that why I--You haven’t been acting like--wait, you didn’t know? That I was asking you...oh Primus.” Ambulon looks genuinely mortified, and First Aid can’t blame him. “Fuck, ‘Aid, I didn’t know--I thought you were just being awkward.”

First Aid wants to protest the assessment that he would be that awkward when courting someone, but he does have to concede that he was avoiding asking Ambulon about his feelings. And he hadn’t planned on asking him until Cyclonus intervened. So maybe Ambulon has a point. 

“So...we are courting?”

“I’d like to be,” Ambulon says faintly. 

First Aid stares at him for a long moment. “Hey. Our shifts are over in...ten minutes. Want to knock off early and go back to my hab?”

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in his voice. He sets the datapad down. “Right now. Let’s go.”

First Aid practically trips over himself getting up from his desk. Ambulon laughs and catches First Aid in his arms for a moment, nudging his nose against First Aid’s mask.

“Yeah. Let’s get back to my hab. Before we get up to anything,” First Aid says quickly. 

“Before we get up to...anything?” Ambulon runs a hand down First Aid’s side, tweaking a couple of wires, and laughs when First Aid squeaks.

“Yes! No interfacing in the medbay!” He pushes Ambulon slightly, and Ambulon chuckles at him. 

“Then let’s get down to your hab.”

It’s a hurried trip down the hall, and First Aid can only be grateful that they don’t run into anyone. They stumble in the door and First Aid manages to smack it shut, but that’s about all he can manage before Ambulon is on him. He gasps as Ambulon presses him up against the wall. Ambulon is heavier than he looks from that combiner experiment overhaul, and even to First Aid’s Forged medic strength, Ambulon is far from light.

“Open the mask, ‘Aid,” Ambulon rumbles. He’s got no engine to rev or hum, none of the kibble to move or flare, but First Aid can practically taste the arousal drenching his field. “Now.”

First Aid’s mask clicks open so fast that it might have left friction burns if Ambulon was touching it. The little grin he gets from Ambulon says he could tell as he leans in for a kiss. For all that Ambulon projects his air of politely cynical amusement, he kisses with more than enough fire to make First Aid’s fans roar to life.

“Primus,” First Aid gasps as Ambulon laughs and nips at the struts of his neck.

“Not quite, ‘Aid. You want to try that again?” His laughter gets louder as First Aid swats at him. First Aid can’t contain a giggle himself and for a long, good moment they stand like that, foreheads and noses brushing. It should feel silly, just smiling at each other like this, but First Aid finds he doesn’t mind it too much. He stretches up for another kiss that Ambulon enthusiastically grants him.

“Should we move to the berth?” First Aid manages to rasp once Ambulon has pulled back.

“I could keep kissing you up against the wall,” Ambulon says, like it’s something that he’s actually thinking about. “I think I might.” 

First Aid would like to say something coherent and witty in response to that. He really would. And he’s totally capable of it, he really is, he definitely is going to open his mouth right now--and start kissing Ambulon again like his frame will melt if he stops. Ambulon doesn’t seem inclined to object either. His frame is hot and thrumming under First Aid’s hands, and yeah, it’s time to move to a berth now. First Aid pushes against Ambulon’s chest with just enough medic strength to get him to take a step back.

“Berth.”

Ambulon’s answering grin makes First Aid’s knees weak. “After you.” 

First Aid nearly trips over his own feet getting to the berth. Ambulon’s watching him with optics that have darkened to a rich amber and how can First Aid be expected to walk in a straight line with that happening?Ambulon can tell too. He’s grinning with too much to not know what he does to him. First Aid manages to sit himself on the edge of the berth without disaster, which gives him just enough time to try and pull himself together before Ambulon practically prowls across the room to meet him. Fuck, it’s hard to remember sometimes that Ambulon was a Decepticon. He doesn’t act like it normally, at least not the stereotypes. But right now, with Ambulon sliding to his knees in front of First Aid, First Aid finds he’s helplessly aware of the tiny glint of fang he catches as Ambulon smiles.

Oh, he’s in so much trouble. 

First Aid reaches out one shaky hand to cup Ambulon’s cheek, brushing a thumb along the smooth metal. He’s rewarded with a soft nip to the pad of his thumb and a wicked grin and oh, First Aid has made a mistake giving Ambulon his hand because First Aid is a Forged medic and Ambulon knows it, and that grin is getting even more wicked.

First Aid has to muffle a shriek when Ambulon takes hold of his wrist and licks from the base of his palm to the tip of his index finger. It’s frankly embarrassing, how much Ambulon makes his fans rev. Ambulon kisses the tips of his fingers, caresses his knuckles, practically worships his palms. First Aid finds himself completely enraptured watching him. Aside from the attention to his hands, which is enough to make him drippingly wet, Ambulon is fucking gorgeous and his field is radiating heavy desire.

“Get up here.” First Aid manages to pull his hands away from Ambulon enough to pull him up to actually kiss him properly. “Your turn.”

“You know my hands don’t work like that, ‘Aid,” Ambulon says.

“I didn’t say I was going for your hands. Lay down.” First Aid pulls Ambulon onto the berth. “And open up.”

“Straight to opening the panels? You’re getting impatient.” Ambulon is grinning, but he obeys. First Aid is gratified to see that Ambulon is dripping as well, and the faintest brush over his spike cover has his spike fully extended in moments.

“Look at you,” First Aid says admiringly. Ambulon laughs.

“Primus, ‘Aid. You are desperate.” The laughter chokes off into a moan as First Aid swallows him down. 

It’s been awhile since First Aid has not been crushingly single, and thus, awhile since he’s gotten to blow anyone, but he likes to think he’s pretty good at it. From the roaring of Ambulon’s fans and the shaking hands on the back of his head, he’s pretty sure he’s right. He has it confirmed when Ambulon starts cursing.

Ambulon’s spike is heavy on his tongue and sparking with charge. Every ridge, every wire, every node. First Aid could do this for hours just to hear Ambulon groan his name in that voice of his. His hips twitch up and First Aid presses them down again the berth. That makes Ambulon whine from somewhere deep in the back of his throat. If First Aid focuses, he can manage--yes, perfect. His nose bumps against Ambulon’s pelvis and Ambulon keens.

“’Aid, if you keep this up, this is going to be over way sooner than I want it to be,” Ambulon groans. 

First Aid pulls off him with an audible pop. “Would that be so bad?”

“I want to fuck you, ‘Aid.” Ambulon doesn’t have an engine to growl but First Aid’s can rev more than high enough for both of them. “I really want to fuck you.” 

First Aid looks up at him with dark optics. “Yeah. Yeah, I could get on board with that.” He scrambles to join Ambulon on the berth and only narrowly avoids accidentally kneeing Ambulon’s spike. Ambulon laughs a little breathily.

“Careful, ‘Aid. A little to the right and this would have all been over.”

“Sorry!” First Aid is opening his mouth again to continue apologizing, but Ambulon laughs and kisses him once, twice, and First Aid very rapidly forgets what he was going to apologize about. It’s very hard to think with Ambulon kissing him like this, softer than First Aid really imagined he could. Thinking gets even harder when Ambulon rearranges them so First Aid is actually laying on the berth with Ambulon kneeling over him. 

“Are you going to open up for me?” Ambulon grins down at him, one hand going down to caress First Aid’s painfully hot panel. He doesn’t even have to finish the sentence before First Aid’s panel is open. 

First Aid is almost painfully aware of how hot he’s running. He squeaks in embarrassment when Ambulon’s finger trace the hot folds of his valve, carefully pressing him open.

“Don’t tease, Ambulon,” First Aid pants. “It’s not fa--” His voice rises into a cry as Ambulon presses his fingers into him. 

“Better?” Ambulon asks, quirking his fingers.

First Aid can’t manage more than a nod and another cry as Ambulon presses deeper. He whines as the fingers suddenly pull out, but suddenly his mouth is covered by Ambulon’s and he can feel the sudden pressure and stretch of a spike pushing into him. 

“Oh fuck--” First Aid gasps against Ambulon’s lips. His hips press upward, trying desperately to take more. Ambulon kisses him.

“Take it easy, ‘Aid. Don’t want to hurt you.” His voice is shaking in a way that somehow makes First Aid run impossibly hotter.

“Not gonna hurt me. Fuck me already.” First Aid demands. Ambulon groans from somewhere deep in his chest and First Aid doesn’t have to ask again before Ambulon is moving. “Oh, fuck.” 

Ambulon kisses him hard and by the time Ambulon stops kissing him First Aid is beyond coherent words. Each thrust is driving him out of his mind. Ambulon’s spike feels like it was made for him, and First Aid has sparks crawling over his armor embarrassingly soon. His vocalizer is spitting static. His legs have started shaking. Ambulon ducks his head and nips at the thin wiring in the hollow of First Aid’s throat and that’s it. It’s more than his frame can handle. 

First Aid overloads with a static-filled scream, fingers digging into Ambulon’s shoulders hard enough to cause dents. He cries out again as Ambulon’s field presses against his own with the force of his own overload and then the two of them are laying there, noses brushing and fans still racing to try and cool them.

“Fuck,” First Aid says one last time. Ambulon laughs.

“Yeah. You could say that.” He shifts a little to pull out and First Aid groans.

“You know, we could’ve done this sooner if you just said this was what you wanted.”

“Sure. Next time, I’ll just tell you directly that I really want to fuck you,” Ambulon agrees.

First Aid nuzzles him. “Sounds good.”


End file.
